Inside Quinn's Head
by introvertedmisanthrope
Summary: Imagine being inside Quinn Fabray's head while she rolls around the school. What could she be thinking about? More details inside. This is just a crackfic.
1. Chapter 1

A/N This is a crackfic. Featuring Inapproprite!Quinn and all the thoughts I thought she should be having. It's not really heavy on the Faberry. In fact, there hardly is any faberry. One shot, probably.

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_They see me rolling, they hating_

That song was stuck in Quinn's head all day. And it's been a really long day. She rolls through the hallway, grateful that people still parting like the Red Sea for her; but it's not because she's head cheerleader anymore. It's because of the damn wheelchair.

People actually felt sorry for her now and she doesn't need that kind of crap. Where was that compassion when she was pregnant and homeless? Nobody cared. But now that she nearly died, everyone seems to have a soft spot for the blonde.

No matter, pretty soon she'll be walking again and everyone will have forgotten she was once in a wheelchair. Or that she was in an accident. Because even she doesn't want to remember that. She told the Glee Club so just a few days ago.

But then Rachel Berry brought it up. It's not that she thought it was the pint-sized diva's fault. Rachel had a point. If she hadn't decided to marry Finn and if she didn't make that scene with her in the hallway (even though technically, she started it) and if she hadn't texted her to hurry the fuck up, she wouldn't have been in that car accident.

Rachel seemingly couldn't forgive herself for that. Quinn on the other hand, forgive her as soon as she administered the hug. Quinn loved Rachel Berry patented hugs. They were the best. It made Quinn feel all warm and nice inside. And outside, too. She loved how Rachel felt pressed closely against her and how Rachel's face was so close to her face and…Whoah! Stop the homoerotic thoughts, Quinn. Get a hold of yourself. You're supposed to be a straight cheerleader.

Speaking of which, she had just gotten back into Sue's good graces. And now she couldn't be a Cheerio because of that damned chair. Don't get her wrong, Quinn actually liked not having to walk for a change. Rolling around everywhere was actually fun. Being in a wheelchair was actually fun. But she didn't want to stay in the wheelchair forever. And when she it's unlikely that Sue will take her back again. She'll be too uncoordinated for the Cheerios.

And then there were the ramps. Artie said that they've already overcome the steepest ramp in all of Ohio. But she didn't enjoy the ramps because she had to exert so much effort just to get into school. It was so easy before. When she was a kid, she liked taking ramps instead of stairs, thinking that it would be faster if she took them. But now that she was in a wheelchair, her opinion about ramps changed.

The buses were worse. Whenever she was being lowered by that electronic thing on the bus, she always felt like she was being lowered into the arena of the Hunger Games. And God knows how that would play out. Wheelchair-bound and helpless, she couldn't fight her way for supplies strewn all around the cornucopia and nobody would want to be her ally. She couldn't possibly climb any trees without the function of her legs. The sounds the chair made when rushing through anywhere would be a dead give-away. She'd be dead in less than a minute. HBIC!Quinn would have won the Games.

And then there's the way that all adults treated her. Like she's some delicate glass figurine. Her teachers let her do whatever she wanted to, Mr. Schue kept grimacing whenever he says her and Ms. Pillsbury tells her that her door is always open. Like she'd ever consider talking to **her** about this.

Judy's the worst. She looks at her with these compassionate, pitying eyes that make her feel like she's dying. Quinn's not dying and this is not the end of the world. She is going to walk again, damnit.

Artie, however, does not feel the same way. He thinks she's never going to walk again. And that she should just accept that. Artie has been a good friend lately but he's really insensitive. Quinn's hoping for something that will actually happen because the doctors are confident. So why isn't Artie just happy that she'll be walking again?

Another thing about Artie, Quinn didn't like how he referenced her pregnancy like that. Constantly screaming 'Push!' at her transported her back to the hospital. All that sweating, cursing and pain shot back into her system. Giving birth was not a good experience and she still hated Puck for impregnating her.

Beth was the only good thing about the pregnancy and she had to give her away. And she couldn't even get her back. She can't even see her anymore. her life has been such a mess.

There have been so many events throughout high school. Getting pregnant, being homeless, her on and off relationship with the Cheerios, Judy's drinking problem, her feelings for Rachel Berry (she still didn't understand what they were), boyfriends, the Skanks, Beth. And now to top it all off, the accident. Why can't her life just be good for once? Why does everything bad have to happen to her?

She tried not to think about all of that when she reaches for her locker. That, of course, just results in most of her books spilling out and she can't even pick them up. And to top it off, the hallway's deserted. Something as mundane as this and she can't even do it. This is what finally broke Quinn Fabray.

She buried her head in her hands and started sobbing uncontrollably. All the pain she felt in her fifteen years of life. Lucy Caboosey, getting a nose job, never being good enough for her father. She all poured it out as her sobs fill the entire hallway.

"I knew you weren't okay."

Quinn stopped crying for a minute and turned to the source of the sound. There Rachel Berry stood, in all her glory, with a heartbreaking expression on her face.

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A/N. Should I continue this orrr...?


	2. Chapter 2

A/N. I don't even know what this is, really. I just started writing and this is what came out. I promise the next chapter will actually be quality, though.

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Quinn wiped away the tears on her cheeks. "What are you talking about? I'm fine."

"Then why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying, I just have something in my eye."

This is did not faze Rachel at all. She still stood there looking like somebody had kicked her puppy. Quinn grimaced at the visual. She would never do that to Rachel's puppy, even when she's fairly sure that Rachel didn't even have a puppy. Even so, if she wanted to, she couldn't. Damn chair again.

"I'm not crying. I just have something in my eye."

Rachel still didn't budge.

"Like a twig. Or a branch, really."

That got a smile from Rachel. Quinn loved Rachel Berry smiles; because they lit up an entire room or in this case, an entire hallway. She missed those smiles; she hadn't seen Rachel smile in ages. Not since their last encounter in the hallway where Quinn agreed to go to the wedding subsequently resulting in the accident. Not that Quinn blamed Rachel for anything whatsoever. Because Rachel was this perfectly cute and precious human being that couldn't possibly be mad at.

And then Rachel was on the floor.

"Rachel. What are you doing?"

Rachel looked up from the spot she was in on the floor.

"Picking up your books," she said, in a matter-of-factly voice.

Oh, yeah. Quinn had forgotten about those.

"You really don't have to do that, I can-"

"You can what, Quinn? Pick them up yourself?"

Ok, that kind of hurt. She didn't need Rachel Berry pointing out that she couldn't bend—and snap—anymore.

Rachel saw Quinn's change in expression and was by her side in a second.

"I am sorry. That came out wrong." Rachel consoled, touching Quinn's arm.

Quinn looked at Rachel hand on her arm and visibly relaxed. She looked at Rachel's face, with was again holding a heartbreaking expression, and smiled.

"It's ok. I should just get used to it."

"No, it's not ok. It was insensitive of me and I profusely apologize for my lack of tact."

Quinn blinked. For a second there, it sounded like the old Rachel Berry.

"I'm sorry. What was that?" Rachel asked, confused look on her face.

It took a second for Quinn to realize that she had actually said that out loud.

"I-nothing."

Rachel looked at Quinn incredulously and for a second, Quinn thought this would result in one of those Rachel Berry rants. But in the end, Rachel shrugged it off and continued picking up the books.

Quinn let out a relieved sigh. Now all she has to worry about is getting out of this situation without thinking inappropriate thoughts and—oh my god. Rachel is on her hands and knees on the floor and she is so close to Quinn's crotch. Stop it, Fabray. Stay cool. And even out your breathing, people can hear you from a mile away.

"Quinn?" Quinn looked up to see Rachel standing up and offering the books

Quinn needed to her and stowing the others back into her locker. Quinn didn't know why the brunette seemed to know what books she needed but it was much appreciated.

"Thanks, Rachel. You're a real life-saver," Quinn said, putting the books into her backpack.

Rachel smiled and it lit the hallway AGAIN.

"Anytime, Quinn. Wheel you to your next class?" Rachel asked, hesitant.

"That'd be great. Thank you," Quinn smiled.

Rachel escorted Quinn to her next class, waved good-bye and hurried to her own class. Quinn was in euphoria for the rest of the day. It didn't matter that the teachers still didn't mind that she would come in class late or that she wouldn't even pretend to pay attention.

It didn't matter that Mr. Schuester still grimaced when he saw her or that Ms. Pillsbury still wanted her to **talk about it**. Or that her mother started drinking again (ok, that did matter) or that Artie suddenly stopped being her friend. Or that she wasn't even in the last episode, all that mattered was Rachel's smile that lit up the room whenever Quinn rolled in.

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A/N. So was that a complete train wreck or?


	3. Chapter 3

AN. This is because I really didn't want Teen Jesus to be in therapy with Quinn, and I really love me some Unholy Trinity.

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Quinn had to be in Physical Therapy all day. Which was excruciatingly hard to do when one was alone. Judy had to work. She couldn't ask Artie to be there because he was still skeptical about her recovery. Puck was…he wasn't really an option. Santana would have just been a bitch and would insult her throughout the entire session. Brittany gets sidetracked really easily. And Rachel, Rachel was still in a Finn-induced state of nauseating love.

Or maybe she wasn't anymore. Quinn really didn't know what was happening this week anymore, on account of the fact that she was hardly even in that episode.

She had just stricken a friendship with Joe but they hardly knew each other and it would have been weird if she just asked out of the blue.

So she went alone. Every time a task was laid out for her and she couldn't do it, she felt like bursting into tears. Artie's words really got to her even though she tried not to show it. What if he was right after all? What if she was never going to walk again?

The doctors all tried encouraging her to try harder and told her that with practice and patience, she'd be walking in no time.

And with those words in mind, she pushed Artie to the back of her mind and worked harder than she ever did in her entire life. Harder even than when she was in the Cheerios, harder than the summer after she got pregnant and worked on getting her body back to its former glory, harder than her transformation from Lucy to Quinn.

She thought about singing and dancing on the stage at Nationals, she thought about Yale, she thought about her life as an actress. She couldn't do all those things if she were wheelchair-bound.

By the end of the session, things were looking up for her. Before, she needed assistance on everything. She needed her mother to transfer her from her bed to the chair. She couldn't get to her own bedroom without someone's help and she couldn't take a bath on her own.

After the session, she could successfully transfer herself to and from the chair and was aware of several ways to take a bath as a wheelchair-bound individual. Of course, she had learned a few things from Artie beforehand but she was now stronger than ever.

She even thought she was regaining the feeling in her legs. Everything was going great for Quinn.

And her good mood went with her through the next day. She was undeniably chipper that day. So happy, in fact, that she caught the attention of the glitter twins.

"Quinn, are you having a stroke?" Brittany asked as she and Santana cornered her at Quinn's locker.

"Seriously, Q, I'm real happy that you're smiling and everything but you look like you're some serial killer hell bent on killing everyone in sight," Santana says, frown on her face.

Quinn frowns at this. "Is it really that weird?"

"You're smiling at everything. It's weird." And that was coming from Brittany. She must have been incredibly creepy.

Quinn ducked her head and frowned further. "Ok, I'll just stop, I guess."

The duo looked at each other and sighed.

"Q, we are just worried about you."

Quinn snapped her head up to look at Santana and quirked an eyebrow at her. "Santana "Badass" Lopez is worried about someone?"

Santana's cheeks reddened. "Shut up, ok? We're still the Unholy Trinity even if your fat ass isn't on the Cheerios anymore."

Quinn felt a spark of warmth at that. Santana never showed any signs of emotion. Guess being with Brittany just tipped her into a tub of sappiness. She had to admit, though, Quinn liked this side of Santana.

"Santana means that she really cares about you, Q. And that we're worried that you're not as happy as you say you are."

"Of course I'm happy. I just finished with my first session of physical therapy."

Brittany smiled at that. "Who'd you go with?"

Quinn ducked her head again. "No one," she mumbled, just loud enough for both Santana and Brittany to hear.

"Why didn't you ask one of us to go with you?"

"I didn't know we were on speaking terms, since you two have gotten together, you've barely spoken to me," Quinn snapped.

The duo had the decency to look ashamed at that. While that wasn't really the reason why she didn't ask either of them, it was still the truth. She just really missed them and they weren't talking to each other anymore.

"We're really sorry about that, Q. I meant what I said earlier. We are, and always will be, the Unholy Trinity. And you should tell us when your next session will be, we will totes be there for you."

Brittany looks lovingly at Santana and turns back to Quinn. "S is right Q. We'll totally be here if you need us and we'll totally go to your next session," she says as she links her hand with Santana's and the other with Quinn's

Quinn looks at their joined hands and smirked, "Okay. Just promise me one thing."

"What?" they both asked, simultaneously.

"When we get there, you are so not allowed to screw each other in the hospital."

Santana smirked and said, "No promises, Q. I mean, have you seen my girlfriend?"

"Santana once worked as candy stripper and she was like, crazy hot in that uniform. Now every time I see a hospital, I imagine Santana in that uniform and get really horny."

Santana smirked wider, "She's totally right, Q. And don't look so disgusted. I saw the way you looked at me when I wore that uniform in school to get you and Finnocence mono."

This conversation was taking a turn for the worse.

"Ok. I really didn't need to hear those things."

"Like you're not enjoying it." Santana accused. Santana knew her too well. Maybe she was enjoying it. A little.

"You don't have to be jealous, Q. You can totally join us when we're having sexy times."

"I've always wanted a threesome."

Quinn's cheeks reddened. "What—I don't—I mean, I'm not into that."

"Oh, come on Quinn. We see how you look at Berry."

It seems that she has been caught. Is there a self-destruct button somewhere? This is so not how she planned the conversation to go.

"Rachel can join us, too. She's hot."

"I have to admit; beneath all that argyle, she has a hot bod."

Quinn buried her head in her hands in embarrassment. "This is not happening."

The glitter twins laughed at her discomfort and grabbed either of the handles on her wheelchair. "Come on, we'll wheel you to class."

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AN. Reviews pls! :)


	4. Chapter 4

AN. I honestly wasn't thinking of continuing this story because I don't know what this is even about and where it's going but last week's ep was just wrong in so many ways. I don't want Quoe to happen so I wrote this thing.

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Quinn promised Santana and Brittany that they would be at her next PT session. And they were, but they weren't the only ones there. Joe was there too.

"Ok, what is Teen Jesus doing here?" Joe scrunched up his face at that. He never liked that people called him that. He wasn't worthy enough to be associated with Jesus himself.

"**Joe** is here because he was adamant about helping me in any way he can," and by adamant, Quinn meant Joe followed her around all day like some lovesick puppy and the only way she would get rid of him was if she would just give in to what he was suggesting.

"S, it's okay. I think it's great that Quinn gets surrounded by girls now and then. The old Quinn was so obsessed with boys." Everybody stilled as Brittany spoke. Brittany, oblivious as ever, continues to smile sweetly.

Joe attempts to break the tension, "Brittany, I'm not-"

"Save it, Tarzan," Santana cuts in. "B's not gonna care."

"It's true," Brittany says sweetly while she rests her head on Santana's shoulder. "And you should really try shaving your armpits, Joe."

Joe looks like he's struggling to form an appropriate response. The look on his face seems almost painful.

All four of them are momentarily distracted enough not to hear the footsteps rapidly approaching them.

"Oh, hey. I'm sorry to disturb all the fun you're having, Barbie and company," Patrick says, sarcasm evident in his voice. "But are you or are you not here for Physical Therapy?"

Patrick was Quinn's doctor; he was in his mid-30s and had a full head of curly hair. He also had laugh lines that surrounded his piercing green eyes and traces of gray in his otherwise brown hair. She liked him because he was quirky and funny in a sarcastic way. He was also the only adult who didn't look at her with pitying eyes. He was also the only adult she knew who insisted that she call her Patrick.

"And good God, what are all these children doing here? Is there a party in here that I wasn't aware of?"

Uh, oh. He mentioned parties, now Brittany is gonna be all over that.

As expected, Brittany's face lit up. "There's a party?" she asks Patrick. "S, I didn't know there was a party. Is there a clown?" She directs the first question to Santana, who is smiling at Brittany so sweetly Quinn's worried it might actually break her face. The latter she directs at Patrick who is staring at her with his mouth agape, completely flabbergasted.

Patrick shakes his head and looks like he might say something that would upset Brittany, and then Santana would kill him and Quinn wouldn't be allowed inside this hospital again. "These are my friends, Patrick; Santana, Brittany, and Joe. Guys, this is Patrick, my doctor."

Santana smiles, well, smirks really. "So, Pat. How has our Quinnie been doing?"

Quinn groans, she hates it when Santana uses that.

"Barbie here is actually doing great. She's been making a lot of progress these days and we're pretty confident that she'll be walking sometime soon," Patrick finishes with a smile directed at Quinn. "And I'm still not sure what all you children are doing in here."

"We're here to support Quinn through a tough time in her life," Brittany says.

"Fair enough. Barbie, since your friends here are so eager to start supporting you, why don't you hop on and we can start?" Patrick says in a reassuring tone but of course, it just makes Quinn wish her friends weren't there anymore.

She wheels herself over to a bed that Patrick pats and is suddenly unsure of herself. What if she can't do it this time? Her friends are right there and she's afraid she'll just embarrass herself.

Sensing the dilemma, Patrick bends over the bed, crosses his arms and says, "Hey, princess. What's wrong?" his voice barely above a whisper.

"I can't do it," Quinn says, shaking her head.

"Yes you can. You've done this before and you can do it now."

Quinn raises her head to look at Patrick and then at the bed, "The bed's a little high."

"The bed's not the problem here. You know that."

She looks back to where her friends are, eyebrows knitted in confusion as to why Quinn isn't starting anything yet.

She looks back at Patrick who is quirking an eyebrow. She sighs, "It's just that…I don't like all the attention."

"Quinn Fabray doesn't like attention? That's new," Quinn smiled at that. Patrick also doubled as her actual therapist. Well, not on paper, but she likes to tell him stuff. In one of her sessions, Quinn talked about popularity. She was constantly craving it. She liked that people gave her attention and looked at her in awe. She liked that people used to worship the ground she walked on. And even when she gave off the aura of wanting to be left alone, it was just a cry for someone to notice how lonely she was and how she was craving someone's care and attention.

"This is different, Pat. And you know it."

"No it's not. These people are here for you, princess. They actually care for you and they came here expecting to cheer in the sidelines while you get better. So why don't we give them what they came here for?" Patrick finishes with an encouraging smile.

Quinn smiles up at him and braces both hands on the bed, she had great upper body strength now. She pushed herself up and out of the chair. It required a lot of effort and some grunting to which Patrick just stood by and watched while Joe stood from his chair and tried to go over and help Quinn. Tried because as soon as Patrick noticed what he was doing, he held up a hand to stop him.

Brittany looked like it pained her to see Quinn like that but Santana looked downright furious. "Why does she have to do that?"

"S, don't," Brittany tries.

"No, baby. She needs help, why are we just-"

"Santana," Quinn says, sharply. "I can get into the damn bed by myself all right?"

Santana immediately clamps up and her hand shoots to find her girlfriend's, lacing them together. Brittany looks at her girlfriend and smiles sadly. She knows that Santana's just really worried about Quinn. And Brittany's really worried, too. So she squeezes Santana's hand to show her that she gets it. Santana looks up at the taller cheerleader's eyes, smiles and presses a chaste kiss to her lips.

"Can't you guys not do that here? This is supposed to be about me, remember?" Quinn says, amused from her spot on the bed. She's already settled there and ready to start up the session.

Brittany untangles from Santana and goes to hug Quinn. "I'm so proud of you," she says while hugging her. Quinn blushes and hugs her back. Brittany pulls away with a smile on her face.

Santana then comes up to the bed and she looks like she's about to tear up. "Same here, tubbers," she says and hugs Quinn.

"You guys are being too dramatic. I just got in a bed."

"Yeah, but it was super hard for you and I'm really glad that you're the one in the wheelchair, Quinn, because you're so strong. And you're a total unicorn." Brittany says, obviously lacking tact.

Any other person would take offense to that, Joe and Patrick certainly seemed to do that for Quinn; but Quinn's used to Brittany's way of thinking. She knew the girl meant well.

Santana was going to apologize for her but Quinn cut her off. "Thank you, Britts."

Brittany smiled, grabs Santana's bed and they both move away from the bed.

"Well, Pat? Are you going to start or are we going to stand here all day?" Santana says.

Patrick blinks once and then proceeds to grab hold of Quinn's right leg and moves it for her. He does basic stretching for her and then does the same to the left leg. This went on for about five more minutes before Patrick's beeper beeped.

Patrick stops what he's doing whit Quinn's legs and stares at the beeper. "Sorry, Quinn. It's really urgent. I have to go do doctor stuff. Can you wait a while?"

Quinn nods. "Sure, go do your doctor stuff. I'll just be here."

Patrick smiles and turns to leave but Joe's voice stops him. "Can I continue what you were just doing?"

Quinn feels weirded out by that; why would Joe suggest that? They still weren't close and he couldn't just ask those questions. It's weird.

Patrick turns again to look at Joe. "That depends, are you a doctor?"

Joe says an apprehensive, "No."

Patrick smiles, "Then there's your answer. Good bye, girls."

The Duo snicker as Patrick walks away and then they go sit on the left side of Quinn's bed.

"I like him," Santana declares.

"Of course, you do. He's you."

"And the only one who loves you more than you love yourself is me," Brittany says, kissing Santana.

"Get a room you two," Quinn's says that but with an amused smile, deep down she knows that she's a hardcore Brittana shipper.

"It's okay if you ship us, Q. We ship Faberry," Brittany says, nonchalantly, picking up on Quinn's internal fangirl. What even was that?

"What are you talking about?" Quinn says, genuinely confused.

"She means you and the hobbit," Santana clears up.

"You two are really cute together," Brittany says.

Quinn is momentarily stunned. She and Rachel were cute together.

Her reverie is interrupted by a clearing of the clearing of a throat.

"Sorry to bother you, Quinn," oh, it's Joe. Quinn completely forgot he was here. "But I wanted to ask you something."

"You best not be asking my girl out," Santana threatens.

Joe looks scared but he quickly reigns it in. "No, I wasn't thinking about that. I was just wondering if I could maybe sing a song with you in glee club?"

Well, she wasn't expecting that at all. "Sure, Joe. What did you have in mind?"

"Well, since it is Whitney week, I thought we could do 'Saving All My Love For You'"

This will not end well. Not only is this fifteen-year-old suggesting that I serenade him with a love song, he just suggested a song that will send the Duo into hysterics. And sure enough, they were quietly giggling from their spot on the bed. It was one of the many inside jokes The Unholy Trinity had.

Still, Joe looked hopeful and she couldn't refuse him now. She already agreed to a duet. "Sure, Joe. When do you think we can practice?"

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AN. Please review if you want to know what the inside joke is. I know, this is like a bad propaganda to try and get more reviews but I need them, ok? As the late S1 Rachel once said, I need reviews to live. Of course, she said applause but that doesn't matter. Reviews please?


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